At last, their lunch for the day was laid out on the table.
The spicy stir-fried rice cakes and pan-fried pork belly were done, along with the dish that nobody could decide whether to call ramen hot pot or “throw everything in and hope for the best.”
I stood behind the monitor, staring at the bright-red mass in the pot, complete with a strangely slick layer of oil floating on top.
All of us staff fell silent.
“Is this actually edible?”
Hyunwoo asked in a hushed voice.
I looked at the pot.
“It should… probably be okay.”
“Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t eat it if your life depended on it?”
“I haven’t changed my mind.”
Not yet, anyway.
The three people in front of the cameras, on the other hand, looked incredibly proud of the masterpiece they’d created.
Liu Junxia was holding the spatula and nodding with satisfaction.
“Looks pretty good.”
Li Zhihao glanced down at it.
“Are your standards for ‘pretty good’ a little too low?”
“What? It’s red and appetizing.”
“Everything turns red when you dump chili paste in it.”
“Don’t be so negative, bro.”
Bai Shijun stood beside them, still holding the tongs he’d used to fry the pork belly.
He stared at the dish for a few seconds before turning very seriously toward the staff.
“So—” He paused. “This is our lunch today, right?”
The staff were all trying not to laugh.
I nodded.
“Right.”
Bai Shijun continued, “Then what are you guys eating?”
Minseo immediately pointed at the boxed lunches sitting by our feet.
The next second—
“Whaaaaat?!”
The three of them let out a perfectly synchronized chorus of protest.
Liu Junxia even pointed straight at us.
“That’s so unfair!”
Li Zhihao folded his arms, looking incredulous.
“So you made us cook for ourselves, and then you get to eat boxed lunches?”
Minseo didn’t feel guilty in the slightest.
“That’s the rule of the game.”
“Then can we eat boxed lunches too?”
“No.”
“What?!”
There it was again.
I nearly burst out laughing beside them.
Bai Shijun didn’t join in on the complaining. Instead, he lowered his head to look at the pot, then suddenly picked up a spoon and scooped up a tiny bite.
“Then at least…”
As he spoke, he started walking toward us, out past the cameras.
I watched him.
“What are you doing?”
Bai Shijun didn’t answer. He walked straight over to Hyunwoo.
The instant Hyunwoo saw him approaching, his entire body went rigid.
“M-Mr. Bai Shijun?”
Bai Shijun’s face came extremely close to Hyunwoo’s, and then—
He flashed a completely unfair smile.
“Thank you for taking care of us these past few days, PDs.”
Hyunwoo: “…”
Bai Shijun extended the spoon a little farther.
“Let’s keep taking care of each other from here on out, okay?” His eyes curved slightly as he smiled. “Come on~ Say ah.”
Me: “…”
Forget Hyunwoo.
Even a rock on the side of the road would probably crack itself open and grow a mouth after seeing that face.
And Hyunwoo already loved NOVER to begin with.
I watched helplessly as he opened his mouth with complete willingness, without even checking what was on the spoon.
“Ah—”
Bai Shijun fed it straight to him.
Hyunwoo chewed twice, and the smile on his face slowly stiffened.
Bai Shijun immediately backed away.
“Is it good?”
Hyunwoo swallowed with difficulty.
“…It’s very distinctive.”
“What’s distinctive about it?”
“It’s very… NOVER.”
I burst out laughing, and Bai Shijun couldn’t help laughing too.
He turned his head and happened to meet my eyes.
I didn’t know if I was imagining it, but his gaze clearly said—
See? I can do things like this.
There was even a hint of smugness at the corners of his mouth.
I narrowed my eyes.
What? Showing off how good you are at acting cute?
I’m not an EVER anymore. That won’t work on me.
I turned my expressionless face away.
“Twenty-minute break.” I picked up the walkie-talkie. “Staff, start cleaning up the dishes and cookware. Reconfirm the treasure-hunt area for this afternoon.”
“Copy that.”
The cameras stopped rolling, and the whole set instantly relaxed. The staff began gathering the ingredient boxes, tables, and props from the game, while the makeup artist and hairstylist immediately went over to the three members of NOVER.
“Shijun, your hair’s getting a little flat here.”
Bai Shijun obediently lowered his head as the hairstylist reached over to fix his bangs.
Beside him, Li Zhihao sat in a folding chair for a touch-up while the makeup artist gently patted the sides of his nose with a powder puff.
During the break, I walked over to their manager.
“Let me go over this afternoon’s schedule with you again.”
The manager immediately put away the phone in his hand.
“Sure.”
I opened the production schedule.
“We’ll be doing a treasure hunt next. The activity area runs from this campsite to the forest trail ahead, but only as far as the line we’ve put up.”
I raised my hand and pointed into the distance.
“Don’t let them go beyond that point. It’s mainly a safety concern.”
The manager followed my line of sight.
“Understood.”
“We’ll have camera operators and safety staff with them, but since the three of them will be searching separately, please remind them as well.”
“Of course.”
I lowered my head and continued explaining. “Everything we’ve hidden is made of eco-friendly paper and has NOVER’s group logo on it. So even if one or two pieces aren’t found by accident, they’ll naturally decompose if they get wet and won’t be left behind in the mountains.”
“That’s good.”
“Also, we’ll keep the game to about an hour. The forecast says there may be some fog after three-thirty this afternoon, so we won’t continue if it gets too late.”
The manager nodded.
“No problem.”
I was just about to turn to the next page when a head suddenly appeared beside me.
“Yin PD.”
I jumped a little.
When I turned around, I saw Liu Junxia.
He’d just gotten his makeup touched up, and his hair had been restyled too. In an instant, he’d gone from looking like a high schooler who’d just woken up to looking like an idol again.
“What is it?”
He glanced down at the staff ID hanging from my neck.
“Your name is Yin Zhixia?”
I lowered my head and looked at it too.
Sure enough, it said Yin Zhixia.
“Yes.”
Liu Junxia’s eyes suddenly lit up.
“Hey! We have the same character in our names!”
He pointed at himself.
“Junxia and Zhixia.”
I blinked.
“Oh. We do.”
He looked like he’d just discovered some earth-shattering secret.
Li Zhihao happened to walk over after finishing his makeup.
“Is sharing one character really enough to get this excited?”
“Yes.” Junxia was completely serious. “It means we’re destined to meet.”
I smiled a little. Even now, this kid was still incredibly easy to make happy with the most random little things.
“Then what year were you born, Yin PD?” Junxia asked again.
“I’m… twenty-six.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up again. “Me too!”
“I know.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I froze.
Liu Junxia blinked. “You knew?”
“…The files.” I answered immediately. “The artists’ basic information.”
“So we’re the same age!”
Fortunately, he didn’t suspect a thing, and Junxia’s tone instantly became more familiar.
“So you’re not older than me.”
The corner of my mouth twitched.
“What? Do I look that old?”
“No, no.” He immediately shook his head. “It’s just that you’re the head producer, so you seem really impressive. Can I call you Miss Zhixia from now on?”
Their manager immediately coughed.
“Junxia.”
“I’m kidding.” He raised his hands in surrender.
“It’s probably better to call you PD during work. Otherwise, if your fans see the broadcast, they might think we’re really close.”
“But we know each other now, don’t we?”
“Knowing someone and being close to them aren’t the same thing.”
The moment I heard that, an image of the first time I met Bai Shijun suddenly surfaced in my mind.
—Knowing and meeting aren’t the same thing.
“Zhixia!” Minseo called from farther away. “The props for this afternoon’s activity are ready to go!”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
I gave the manager a small nod.
“Then I’ll leave it to you to remind them later.”
“Sure.”
I turned to leave, but after only a couple of steps, someone lightly tugged at my sleeve.
I looked down and saw a hand pinching the cuff of my jacket. Following the hand upward, I found—
Bai Shijun.
“…What?”
He didn’t answer. He just raised his chin slightly, signaling for me to come over to the side.
I looked at him suspiciously, then glanced at the busy staff.
I followed him a few steps and stopped in a corner hidden from the cameras.
“What are you trying to—”
Before I could finish, he suddenly picked up a plate from the table behind him.
Neatly arranged on it were several beautiful, golden-brown slices of grilled pork belly, their edges slightly crisp. There were even some fragrant pan-fried garlic cloves on the side. Compared with the red, unrecognizable dark dish from earlier, they looked like they’d come from two completely different worlds.
“What’s this?” I asked instinctively.
Bai Shijun looked down at it.
“Pork belly.”
“I know it’s pork belly.” I looked up. “I mean, where did this come from?”
“I fried it while I was cooking earlier.”
“You fried it?”
“Yeah.”
I looked down at it again. This plate of pork belly had actually been made by Bai Shijun, the same person who’d created that culinary disaster earlier?
It smelled so good that my stomach, which hadn’t been hungry at all, suddenly started to reconsider.
“You can cook?”
Bai Shijun raised an eyebrow.
“Do I look like I can’t?”
“No, I just thought—” I suddenly remembered the pot from earlier. “Then what was that?”
Bai Shijun glanced at the two members who were currently eating their own dark creation.
Then he let out a soft laugh.
“It’s a variety show.”
I understood instantly.
“So you deliberately threw random things in?”
“Not completely.”
“What does that mean?”
“Junxia genuinely thought everything would taste good together.”
Fair enough.
“What about Zhihao?”
“He couldn’t be bothered to stop him.”
Also fair enough.
I looked down at the plate.
“Then what about this?”
Bai Shijun nudged the plate a little closer to me.
“For you and the staff to have as a side dish.”
“Weren’t you just complaining about us having boxed lunches?”
“That was for the cameras.”
He said it as if it were obvious.
“There aren’t any cameras right now.”
I paused.
So while everyone had been running around in chaos, he’d actually grilled another whole plate.
“When did you make this?”
“You didn’t see?”
“I was watching the monitor the whole time.”
“Exactly.” He pushed the plate into my hands. “Take it.”
I quickly lowered my head to look at the pork belly.
“Anyway… thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Holding the plate of pork belly, I turned around and secretly popped a piece into my mouth.
So this person really could cook.
Then, in all those past shows where he burned the pot and dumped in seasonings at random, how many of those moments had actually been real?
The entertainment industry really is full of lies. (Haha.)
Before the official meal, the cameras started rolling again.
The three of them sat at an outdoor table with the fruits of their labor spread out in front of them.
A huge plate of spicy stir-fried rice cakes that defied categorization.
A plate of pan-fried pork belly.
And a pot of ramen soup(?) that seemed to contain fish cakes, rice cakes, and a few slices of meat floating around in it.
I stood behind the monitor, and the more I looked at this meal, the more I felt its theme should be called—Carb Overload.
“Let’s eat!”
The three of them said it together and picked up their utensils.
Li Zhihao was the first to scoop up a rice cake with his spoon.
Instead of eating it himself, he naturally turned toward Junxia.
“Come here.”
Junxia looked wary.
“What?”
“I’ll feed you, bro.”
“No.”
“Just one bite.”
“It’s okay… You eat first, bro.”
“I already had some.”
Although Liu Junxia looked deeply distrustful, he obediently opened his mouth in the end.
Li Zhihao shoved the spoon right in, and Liu Junxia chewed a few times.
Everyone waited for his reaction.
He slowly knitted his brows.
Bai Shijun looked at him.
“Well?”
Liu Junxia struggled to find the right words, then finally said in English,
“Not bad…”
Two seconds passed.
“But not good.”
The whole set instantly erupted in laughter.
Li Zhihao lowered his head, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.
“What does ‘not bad but not good’ even mean?”
“It means you can swallow it.” Liu Junxia chewed again. “But you can’t exactly call it good.”
Bai Shijun picked up a piece with his chopsticks.
“It’s that borderline?”
He put the rice cake in his mouth and chewed twice, his expression gradually growing more complicated.
Liu Junxia immediately pointed at him.
“See? Right?!”
Bai Shijun forced himself to swallow.
“Actually…” He set down his chopsticks. “If you got hungry enough, you’d probably think it was delicious.”
I couldn’t help laughing. How was that any different from saying it tasted bad?
Li Zhihao picked up a piece of pork belly.
“At least this is normal.”
“That’s because Shijun made it,” Liu Junxia said. “Shijun’s the better cook on our team.”
Li Zhihao added, “But he didn’t stop this pot.”
“You were the ones who said to put everything together.”
“But you had the skills to stop me!”
Bai Shijun turned toward the camera with a perfectly serious expression.
“Why would I stop you? This is a variety show. It’s supposed to be fun.”
Liu Junxia fell silent.
A few seconds later, he nodded.
“Shijun really has no conscience.”
“Thanks.”
I stood behind the monitor.
I nearly burst out laughing. How smoothly had he started using that line?
After they’d been eating for a while, the three of them finally stopped taking shots at each other’s cooking.
The mood gradually shifted into more relaxed small talk.
Liu Junxia took a sip of soup.
“But lately, I really have been forgetting things all the time.”
Li Zhihao looked up at him.
“You’ve always been forgetful.”
“No, it wasn’t this bad before.”
“At the concert in Japan last time, you forgot your passport when we left.”
“That wasn’t forgetting.”
Bai Shijun turned his head.
“You didn’t bring your passport. How is that not forgetting?”
Liu Junxia immediately explained, “It’s because I thought you had brought it for me.”
“Why would I bring your passport?”
“You used to check things for me.”
“You’re twenty-six.”
“So what?”
Bai Shijun looked speechless.
“When are you going to grow up?”
Liu Junxia poked a rice cake with his chopsticks.
“Probably around thirty.”
Li Zhihao drawled from beside him, “You’ve only got four years left. If you’re planning to become a sophisticated adult in four years, there’s probably no hope.”
The three of them dissolved into laughter.
Somehow, the conversation then shifted to recent work-related TMI.
Li Zhihao said that a few days ago, while filming, he’d mistaken a prop drink the staff had left nearby for a real one and drank it.
Liu Junxia laughed so hard that he leaned back against his chair.
“Didn’t you realize it only after drinking half of it?”
“Because it looked real.”
“I remember it was salt water, right?” Liu Junxia asked, turning toward the managers off-camera for confirmation.
Bai Shijun picked up a piece of pork belly. “You drank half before you figured that out?”
“I thought it was a sports drink.”
Bai Shijun laughed so hard he lowered his head.
“Is something wrong with your sense of taste?”
Li Zhihao looked up at him.
“Aren’t some sports drinks salty? Besides, who was it that took Jiik’s lip balm and used it as his own last time?”
Liu Junxia whipped his head around.
“What?! You indirectly kissed Jiik!”
Bai Shijun immediately glared at Li Zhihao.
“Why would you tell them that?”
“It’s TMI.”
“That didn’t need to be shared!”
I stood behind the camera, watching them each expose the other’s embarrassing stories one by one.
The mood was much more natural than it had been that morning, especially with Li Zhihao.
He was responding to Bai Shijun on his own now, and he’d even joked about Bai Shijun’s embarrassing story just a moment ago.
I relaxed a little. Maybe they really had just been too tired that morning.